Wrecked
by FrankieFandom
Summary: One-shot. That one time Casey was late for his shift.


**Wrecked**

There were banks of snow piled up on the street, the footpaths were covered in patches of ice and snow, the roads were almost clear, just the slushy remnants of snow remained. Casey was standing by the window looking out in the small paved area behind their apartment, he missed the garden from his old house. The BBQ was covered in snow, the bikes too. There were no footprints, the place had been undisturbed since the snow had fallen last week.

He'd just taken a sip of coffee when Severide's movement garnered his attention. "You off?"

"Hitting the gym," Severide responded. "Wanna join?"

"Went for a run last night," he replied, placing his coffee mug on the island worktop.

"You're crazy. I'd never run in this." Severide shook his head, amused.

"And I never do cardio at the gym."

"Chicks love it." Severide grinned.

"Yeah 'cause there's so many there at 6:30am."

"You'd be surprised."

Casey just smiled and shook his head.

"You should try it," Severide urged.

"M'all right thanks."

"You need to get back out there."

"Tried that remember," he scoffed. They both laughed. "God... I'm glad Boden's back."

Severide left and Casey went over to the kitchen counter. He emptied a box of cereal and went to the fridge.

"Damnit Kelly..." he muttered. No milk. This always happened. In the end he sat down on the couch and ate his dry cereal, washing it down with a large glass of orange juice, as he watched the news channel.

Looking outside he realised he really should get out there and tackle the cold. God, he hated the cold. He'd grown up in Chicago, lived here all his life and he still felt entirely unprepared every winter when the cold hit, despite being as prepared as anyone could be for the icy Chicago winters. Oddly he'd never once thought of moving to warmer climates, perhaps a holiday during the extreme weeks would be good, but a permanent move to a place where there wasn't the risk of hypothermia just by stepping outside and picking up the newspaper had never crossed his mind.

* * *

Soon Casey was outside. The cold bit at his hands as he scraped the ice off his truck. He worked quickly and efficiently. He'd allowed extra time to de-ice, he was never late for shift, he was a leader, and had to lead my example. Although he was sure Severide was late for shift at least once a month, chatting up some girl at the gym no doubt. At least one of them tried to set a good example. Casey was stickler for timetables and schedules, he always tried to stay on top of everything, stay in control of everything. Control was key. But some things were entirely out of his control.

* * *

The tanker came out of nowhere. One moment the lights were green and Casey was accelerating, the next moment his truck was spinning wildly out of control away from the heavy force that had ploughed straight into it. Casey's attempts to stop the spin failed. The truck hit the kerb and flipped onto its side. Casey blacked out when pain shot from his arm. The truck had crumpled like it was just paper under the tanker as it spun and pinned buckled metal onto the wall. Glass shattered around Casey's unconscious and bleeding form. Metal creaked and groaned under the weight of the tanker.

Others cars and vehicles had come to a standstill at the junction. The emergency services were called.

* * *

Casey couldn't see. He scrunched his eyes shut. Opened them again. Still couldn't see. He could hear someone groaning, it took him a few moments to realise the noise was coming from his own lips. Shakily he brought his right hand up to his face. Wiped his eyes. His hand came back sticky. He could see now. He could see the destruction that surrounded him. He was on his left hand side. There was blood smeared on the now deflated airbag. Glass cracked and crunched underneath him. His chest was held tightly, secured by the seatbelt, it was pressing so deeply into him he thought it had cut through his skin, but that was impossible with the three layers he was wearing. He struggled to move. His whole left side was in agony. He was shaking.

* * *

"Sir, can you hear me?" a voice called into the crumpled truck, "Sir?"

"Yeah," he replied gruffly, wiping more blood from his eyes.

"Good, my name's Laura Edwards, I'm a paramedic, firefighters are on their way, we'll get you out!" she called through the wreck. "What's your name?"

"Matt Casey," he stated clearly now.

"We're gonna take good care of you, how are you feeling?"

"Left clavicle is broken. Arm's broken too, got intermittent feeling in that hand. Fairly certain that's it," he listed calmly.

"You a doctor?"

"Lieutenant, Firehouse 51," he replied, he could now hear the sirens of the truck and engine crews arriving at the scene.

"All right, well you know the drill then..." There were muffled voices before she called back into the truck, "Matt, I'll be back with you in a moment."

There was silence in the truck, save for a few groans from both Casey and the moaning metal, he wiped away more blood from his forehead and waited.

* * *

"Where's Casey?"

Severide looked up from his newspaper to find Herrmann stood with his harms crossed, he shrugged. "Dunno."

"You live together."

"Came straight from the gym," he replied. Casey's lateness was unusual but it was only just coming up to 8am. He called his cell anyway. No response. Casey was probably just running late, probably ended up saving some poor old lady, or helpless young child on his way in. He would have the perfect reason.

* * *

Casey could feel his phone vibrating his pocket. He couldn't get to it. No doubt it was Boden wondering why he was late. He was never late but at least being crushed and pinned in by a tanker was a valid excuse for tardiness.

The pain in his arm had thankfully died down to a dull throb; he knew it would be agony if he moved. The position he was lying was uncomfortable but moving would send shrieks of pain throughout his battered form.

"Lieutenant Casey, it's Captain Innes, how you holding up?"

"How bad is it?"

"The tanker's pinned you against the building. My crew are stabilising it right now..."

"Is it leaking?" he questioned steadily.

The Captain hesitated but answered truthfully. "Yes."

"What's in it?" He was met with silence. "It's fuel, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"The driver?" he asked curiously, wondering if they were both as trapped as each other.

"Out and on his way to Lakeshore."

Wondering if he was the only one trapped under a tonne of buckled metal he began, "Any..."

"No one else," the Captain replied.

"Ok," he replied tiredly. Everything in his body was telling him to sleep, if he didn't know the consequences of that he would have succumbed to unconsciousness. He needed to stay awake, needed to know what was happening.

"Gonna send a paramedic in, stabilise you and get you some painkillers," Captain Innes explained.

"No, not stable..."

"Let me run my own scene, you can just sit back, relax and watch my expertise," the Captain said lightly.

* * *

A few feet away from the wreckage the firefighters had gathered, the tanker had been stabilised and one of the ambulances was on its way to the nearest hospital.

"He's still alert and calm. We need to keep him that way. It's gonna be a while until we can get him and I can see a lot of blood," the Captain explained as he walked up to his crew from the crushed front end of the truck. "Hand tools only, we do not want this going up in flames. Edwards get in there but make sure you have quick exit."

* * *

Edwards slipped through a small gap and made her way to Casey, she sat behind Casey in between the wall and back of his truck, the glass had already smashed, she broke the rest away. "Matt, you still with us?"

"I'm all right, you shouldn't stay in here," Casey stated clearly.

"Offended you don't want my company, Matt." She reached into the front of the truck and slipped the c-collar around his neck, she struggled to reach her arm back and grab the IV bag. "Just some saline 'cause you're..."

"Bleeding out and you think I'm gonna be stuck here for a while," he supplied, "It's just my head." - Just - If Severide had heard him he'd have something to say about that.

"Let me be the judge of that."

Casey felt a sharp prick, Edwards hooked the bag up and questioned, "What house did you say you were with, Matt?" She wanted to keep him alert, keep him talking.

"51. Truck 81," he replied. "Was on my way to shift. Making you guys do overtime, right?"

"Right. How's Innes know you?" she questioned as she awkwardly reach through and secured a bandage to the heavily bleeding laceration on his head.

"What?" he frowned. His head was pounding, his skin felt tight across his skull.

"How'd you know Innes?" she repeated. Than bandage was quickly soaked red.

"Oh... erm... he used to... used to help organise the CFD boxing training." His words were thick and heavy, he struggled which each one of them, it felt like the air around him was choking him. He pushed through it. He was fine. He was all right. Why was he still shaking?

"Oh yeah? You box?"

"Not anymore." - Not anymore because the risk of hitting his head -

Blood continued to soak the bandaged wrapped around his head. "How's the pain?" she questioned, readying a dose of morphine. Even from her angle she could see the awkward position of his left arm, and on top of that he'd told them that his collarbone was broken. A painful break even without having the dead weight of his body lying on it or the force of the seatbelt securing him.

"No. Wanna... wanna stay awake..."

"Ok, but let me know if it gets worse."

* * *

"Lieutenant, how you doing?" Captain Innes called into truck.

"Someone should really fix the heating in this place," Casey replied, fully aware once again.

"Yeah, yeah, we'll get right to it," he replied. "Edwards?"

"He's in and out but hanging in there. ETA?" she called back.

"Shouldn't be too long now until we get you out safely," the Captain replied.

"I'm in and out?" Casey questioned, frowning.

"You're doing well Matt, not much longer now, they'll have you out here in no time," Edwards reassured him. "Gonna give you something for the pain now. Don't attempt to persuade me otherwise."

* * *

It felt like forever since Casey had been scraping the ice off his truck, he was so cold, so tired. He could see wisps are breath swirling the air as he breathed. He'd not had any feeling in his left hand for a few minutes now, he could only imagine how badly damaged his arm was. At least he would be out soon. Out of his crushed truck and on his to a warm ER in the back of warm ambulance. God, he just wanted to feel warmth again. The space he was trapped in was too small for much movement, the paramedic had already struggled to attach the c-collar and stem the bleeding on his forehead.

 _'Oh God,'_ Casey groaned inwardly, as if this couldn't get any worse. "You smell that?" he questioned, half hoping it was his concussion imaging things.

"Captain! We've got a fuel leak in here!" Edwards called out.

"Well, that might fix that heating problem at least." Casey scoffed.

"Edwards get out of there," the Captain called. Casey had expected it, it's what he would have done.

"Capt..." she began to protest.

"Do what he says. Can keep myself company. Don't you worry."

* * *

"Matt?" Edwards called, she'd not heard anything from him for a few minutes now. "Matt can you hear me?"

Nothing.

"Innes, he's unresponsive."

"We're goin' as fast as we can!"

"Matt? Matt can you hear me?"

"... What..?" he groaned when he heard Edwards calling his name, he really just wanted to sleep, he was so cold and tired.

"Need ya to stay awake for..."

"Argh!" Casey cried out in agony as the tanker slipped, the weight crushed the truck even closer to the ground. The bones in his arm moved, the jagged ends grinded against each other, he was crying out unconsciously. The agony was unbearable. He was quickly losing his faint grip on reality.

* * *

"Matt, just hang in there..."

* * *

"Matt, they're nearly through..."

* * *

"Steady. On three. One..."

* * *

"Sir, sir? Can you hear me? Do you remember what happened?"

Bright lights surrounded him, busy voices, the prick of a needle, the sound of clothes tearing. "... Truck..."

"You're in the ER, you're going to be all right. Can you feel this?" His left hand was squeezed.

"Mmm..."

"Good. We've set your collarbone. We're stabilising your arm, getting some scans. Is there anyone we can call for you?"

"... 51..."

"They're already in the waiting room."

* * *

Boden and the others were sat in the waiting room. Boden had received a call from Captain Innes as soon as Casey had been loaded into the ambulance. Boden informed the others. Severide had immediately left for the hospital in the squad rig. Boden and the others had followed.

Severide was burning a hole in the waiting room floor as he paced up and down. He should have known something serious had happened the moment Casey hadn't turned up to shift.

* * *

Casey woke to a pressing weight on his chest, he didn't know how much time had passed, he was sure he was no longer trapped in his truck, he could hear the steady beat of a heart monitor. It took him a while to realise what was going on. The pressing weight was still on his chest; his name was still being called out. He could feel the pulse-oximeter on his finger, the nasal cannula on his face; he could hear the hiss of the oxygen. He was finally warm, it was amazing. It took his eyes several long moments to respond but he finally satisfied the voice calling his name and cracked them open.

"Hi there Lieutenant, how are you feeling?"

"Good... I think..." In truth, he could barely think.

"Good drugs, right?"

"Mmm..."

"We've set your collarbone, it'll heal nicely. Your x-ray shows a bad break in your arm, we couldn't set it down here, you'll need surgery to pin it," the man explained, "You'll be heading up to the OR when it's available."

"Head?"

"You have a concussion, CT scan was clear, you're very lucky. Plastic surgeon is gonna suture the laceration; make sure there's no scar. You'll be ok."

"Thanks..."

"Your crew is in the waiting room, is there any family we can call for you?"

"Already here..." he slurred.

"Ok, you'll see them soon."

* * *

"Hey sleeping beauty." It was Severide. Casey's eyes had barely opened, he wasn't sure where he was, and it took a few moments to remember what had happened.

"Hi..." Casey's voice croaked from the abuse of the endotracheal tube.

"How are you feeling? Doc says..."

"I'm ok," he replied.

"Casey, you're in the ICU so skip the 'I'm ok's' all right?"

"I am, said it's just my arm, not life threatening."

"It was life threatening. You hit your head, lost a lot of blood. You were trapped in your truck for over three hours," Severide stated.

"Three hours?"

"Uh huh..." Severide nodded.

Severide's movement made Casey feel dizzy. He shut his eyes. "Felt long but three hours?"

"You sure you didn't crack your skull again?" Severide teased at the repetitiveness.

"Funny," he spoke dryly. "You don't need to stay, don't a need a hand to hold."

"Oh I'm not offering." Severide grinned.

"Really, you can go, shouldn't you be on shift? Not dying. And I'm... I'm about to fall asleep..."

"All right I'll go, just promise to stay 'not dying'. You are still in critical care," Severide pointed out.

"I promise," he slurred, he let his eyes close but they immediately shot back open. "Oh Kelly..."

"What's wrong?" Severide questioned urgently.

"We've not got any milk."

 **The End**


End file.
